


(We Can Make A) Beautiful Christmas

by countmeaway



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Christmas, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Mpreg, WWE Secret Santa 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 20:32:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13108005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/countmeaway/pseuds/countmeaway
Summary: Seth never expected to be here, never thought this would be a life he wanted, or be one he’d enjoy, but it is, and he does, wants it so much that he doesn’t know what he’d do without it, without Dean.





	(We Can Make A) Beautiful Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [strykelass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/strykelass/gifts).



> Merry Christmas, to you and yours. I hope you enjoy this.

The lights on the Christmas tree are twinkling, blues and reds and greens, and there’s a fire crackling in the fireplace, the room pleasantly warm.  
  
Seth sighs and looks back at the tree, at the myriad of wrapped boxes tucked beneath. He kind of got a little out of control this year, but to be fair, Dean didn’t show any better restraint.  
  
It’s going to be their first full Christmas day as an officially married couple, and with their anniversary sharing the occasion, Seth couldn’t stop buying and buying. Most of it is all ridiculous things that Dean probably won’t even use, but they were things that grabbed Seth’s attention and he just couldn’t resist buying them.  
  
Seth never expected to be here, never thought this would be a life he wanted, or be one he’d enjoy, but it is, and he does, wants it so much that he doesn’t know what he’d do without it, without Dean. He can’t even picture his life without Dean now, without the life and home they’ve created together.  
  
The front door creaks open, a gust of cold air whipping through, sending a chill up Seth’s spine. Dean’s bundled up, a beanie pulled down over his ears, a scarf wrapped around his neck, and a leather jacket covered in a dusting of snow. The tip of his nose is red, but he’s grinning, arms laden with shopping bags, and what smells like a burger and fries from Seth’s favorite fast-food place.  
  
”How are my babies today?” Dean asks, the same way he does every day when he gets home, and it makes Seth roll his eyes, even as his cheeks pink.  
  
”We’re good,” Seth says, putting a hand on his belly, feeling the never-ending kicking that always seems to happen whenever Dean is talking. Their babies love their daddy, have always been the most responsive to Dean ever since they started kicking and moving and rolling.  
  
It made Seth jealous, in the beginning, that he’d try to talk to his babies and feel nothing, but the moment Dean’s voice reached his ears, they’d start their gymnastics routine. He doesn’t mind it now, loves it, even, loves knowing that their babies already have such a strong connection and bond to Dean, loves feeling them move and respond to the gravel rough tone of Dean’s voice.  
  
”I’m just ready to have them now,” Seth continues, feeling as big as ever. His feet are sore and swollen, his hips hurt, his back hurts, and his chest aches, and he’s either peeing all the time, or eating. Sleep isn’t a thing he’s been getting much of lately, and he’s exhausted, but there’s no comfortable position for him to sleep in, no matter how many different positions he and Dean try.  
  
”You say that now,” Dean says, grinning.  
  
They’ve been prepared for months now. The nursery is painted, a soft shade of mint green, with zoo animal decals stuck up on the walls. They’ve decided on one crib for now, while the babies are still small enough, figuring that they’d sleep and adjust to the outside world better if they were still close. There’s a rocking chair and dressers filled to the brim with clothes in all sizes and colors, and boxes upon boxes of diapers and baby wipes.  
  
The kitchen is overrun with bottles, a bottle warmer, and they’ve cleared out half the freezer to make space for any breast milk that will need to be frozen.  
  
They’re as prepared as prepared can get.  
  
”Don’t lie, Dean. You know you’re just as excited for them to be here,” Seth teases, laughing softly at the “well, duh” look on Dean’s face.  
  
”I got you some food,” Dean says, changing the subject. “Your favorite burger and fries.”  
  
There’s only one meal in the bag, Seth sees, when Dean hands it to him and he peers inside. “What about you?”  
  
”Ate already. Wanted to get the last of the presents wrapped before you could sneak a peek at them,” Dean replies.  
  
Seth frowns. He’d have liked to have eaten with Dean, but Dean has been so secretive about all the things he’s bought, even for the babies, that it makes sense he’d use the time Seth is eating to finish wrapping them.  
  
”Don’t take too long,” Seth requests, mouth full of food already. He’s hungry, all the time, and the burger he’s eating is the most heavenly smelling thing.  
  
Dean graces him with a soft smile before he disappears upstairs, warming Seth from the inside out.  
  
\--  
  
The days pass slowly and quickly all at once. Seth didn’t think it was possible to get any bigger, but man, was he wrong. He’s pretty sure he’s somehow doubled in size.  
  
They’re getting ready for the Christmas party Dean’s company is throwing, and the outfit Seth had bought last month doesn’t fit.  
  
”Exactly how big were you when you were born?” Seth asks, taking in the size of his belly. These babies are going to split him in half, he swears.  
  
Dean laughs, his hands on Seth’s hips as he walks up behind him, resting his chin on Seth’s shoulder. He loves the contrast in their coloring, the way Dean is all pale skin, light hair, clear blue eyes, so different from his tan skin, dark brown eyes, dark hair. “I was a normal sized baby, Seth, calm down. You just had to be an overachiever and have two at once.”  
  
The kicking starts up again, tiny feet pressing up against his stomach from the inside out.  
  
”You figure out what you’re gonna wear?” Dean asks, poking the tip of a finger against a prodding foot.  
  
Seth sighs. “I think I have some paternity pants that fit yet, and I could probably just wear a t-shirt and a suit jacket.”  
  
It’s not a formal affair, really, but what Seth would have worn before—skinny jeans and one of his many Glamour Kills t-shirts—don’t fit anymore. Dean’s dressed as he usually is, in jeans and a white t-shirt, and his leather jacket he never goes without.  
  
”Hop to it,” Dean says, with a smack to Seth’s ass that makes him jump, laughter roaring in his ears as Dean retreats.  
  
It takes entire too long to change, and by the time they’re in the car and on the way to the party, Seth is tired and irritated, and he just wants to go back home to sleep.  
  
”A couple hours, babe,” Dean promises, “and I’ll give you any kind of massage you want when we get home.”  
  
Seth sighs and shifts, then tries to smile. He can get through this, easily.  
  
Except the night ends up being anything but easy an hour later, when the pain starts. Dean is off somewhere with one of his coworkers, because Seth wasn’t up to walking around, his back aching, his feet swollen, so now he’s here at a table alone, pain radiating through his belly, his back, stealing the breath right from his lungs.  
  
His knuckles are white where his hands are balled into fists on his thighs, and it feels like an eternity passes before he’s finally able to breathe, and then his eyes are darting around wildly, trying to find any sight of Dean.  
  
Seth finally spots Dean standing with Roman, Dean’s best friend, brother. He pushes himself upright, clenching his teeth as he does. “C’mon, Seth, c’mon.” It’s a mantra that repeats through his head with every step he takes, and by the time he reaches Dean, another contraction hits and he doubles over, gasping for breath.  
  
”Seth?”  
  
Dean’s voice barely reaches his ears over the rush of pain and blood, but he has enough awareness to grab for Dean’s hand, squeezing as tight as he can until the worst of it passes, vision blurry as he takes in the concern on Dean’s face.  
  
”It’s time,” is all Seth manages to say, focusing on his breathing, on keeping as calm as he can. It’s not easy, but somehow he manages, manages to keep putting one foot in front of the other with Dean’s hand on his back, Roman’s arm around his shoulders, both of them trying to get him outside to the car.  
  
”Drive fast,” Seth grits out, once he’s finally in the car. Dean’s trying to get his seatbelt fastened, but Seth finally slaps his hands away, says, “Leave it and drive.”  
  
The pain abates momentarily, and Seth is able to breathe again, resting his head back against the seat.  
  
”You doin’ okay?” Dean asks, both hands tight on the steering wheel. Seth tries to catch sight of Dean’s face, but Dean’s giving nothing away.  
  
”For the most part, yeah,” Seth replies, trying to ignore the way his nerves are a tangled mess, the way his heart is pounding inside his chest. He’s ready, so beyond ready, to meet their children, but he’s so fucking nervous, so afraid that he’s going to mess up, that he’s going to do something wrong, that something is going to go wrong. “How are you doing?”  
  
Dean laughs softly. “Think I’m about to piss myself, honestly,” he says, which, yeah, Seth can get behind that statement, because he’s pretty sure he’s about to piss himself, too.  
  
The car comes to a screeching halt. Seth lurches forward in his seat, barely able to get his hands up to brace himself. Maybe he should’ve let Dean get the seatbelt fastened.  
  
His stomach tightens again as another contraction hits, and he can’t hold back the groan this time, gritting his teeth through it as he breathes.  
  
The next few minutes seem to fly by. He’s helped into a wheelchair and whisked up to the Labor and Delivery wing, helped out of his clothes and into a hospital gown, then settled into bed. He’s hooked up to all kinds of machines: an IV inserted into his arm, a band around his belly.  
  
”This is your first time giving birth, correct?” the nurse asks, looking over the paperwork in her hand.  
  
”Yeah,” Seth replies, nodding his head, “first time.”  
  
”This could take awhile, hun,” she says, “but we’ll do everything we can to make you as comfortable as possible.”  
  
Seth groans. Yeah, it’s something he already knew, but hearing it again, now, when it feels like he’s about to be split in half? He’d rather have his teeth ripped out.  
  
Dean settles in beside him, holding his hand tightly. “This is really happening, huh?”  
  
Seth laughs around the lump in his throat, tears prickling at his eyes. “Yeah, yeah it is.”  
  
There’s no getting comfortable, not with the way the contractions keep rolling through, but Seth tries, and Dean does everything he can to distract him, to keep his focus anywhere that isn’t the pain radiating through his lower half, and it works, in those in-between moments where Seth actually can focus, on Dean’s hands, Dean’s words, the way he’s pointing out the decor in their room, how the string of Christmas lights are crooked, how the tree in the corner is off balance.  
  
It makes Seth laugh a little, how nitpicky Dean can be, how much of a perfectionist he is about small details. Painting and decorating the nursery was kind of a pain.  
  
”Roman go home?” Seth asks, a few hours later. Dean’s pulled a chair up beside the bed, and his hand is still in Seth’s.  
  
”Yeah,” Dean says, rubbing his thumb across the bumps of Seth’s knuckles. Roman had apparently followed behind them in his own vehicle, and he’d ducked in a couple of times, but it’s been awhile since Seth has seen him. “He said he’d stop by tomorrow, see how things are goin’, if you’ve had the babies yet.”  
  
Seth’s reply gets cut off by another contraction, and he squeezes Dean’s hand as tight as he can, breathing in, breathing out. “This…sucks,” he grits out between clenched teeth. Everything hurts, and he just wants his babies here now.  
  
”Just–” Seth’s hand falls to the bed, but before he can panic, before he can yell at Dean and ask him where the heck he’s going, the bed is being readjusted, and he falls back momentarily before he’s being pushed upright again, coming to rest with his back against the broad plain of Dean’s chest, Dean’s arms on either side of him. “Better?”  
  
It doesn’t help the pain, no, but it does make Seth feel better, being this much closer to Dean. “S’good,” Seth says, hands wrapped around Dean’s wrists. The worst of the contraction has passed, and all he can focus on now is the heat of Dean’s body surrounding him, the subtle, spicy smell of Dean’s cologne, the fresh, crisp smell of Dean’s soap.  
  
Progress is slow. It feels like days before he’s finally given an epidural, and it’s a sweet bliss when the drugs enter his system. Everything seems to happen quickly after that, now that he’s not so focused on how much pain he’s in, how it seems like nothing is happening.  
  
A nurse is examining his progress once again, and Seth’s prepared for her to tell him that he’s still got a ways to go, but she looks up at him and grins, says, “You ready to meet your babies?”  
  
”It’s time?” Seth asks, heartbeat starting to race. His mouth feels as dry as the desert, and suddenly he’s not so ready. Inside his belly, the babies are safe. He can protect them from the world. Outside? There are any number of things that could happen, that could endanger the lives of his babies.  
  
”They’re going to be okay,” Dean says, whisper quiet into his ear. “They’re gonna be perfect.”  
  
The room bursts into activity, two carts wheeled in for each of the babies, a flurry of nurses, and the doctor, rolling up between Seth’s legs.  
  
”I hear it’s time for some babies to make their way into this world,” she says, snapping on a pair of gloves.  
  
”Guess so,” Seth says, with a watery laugh. There are tears already burning at his eyes.  
  
”You’ve got this,” Dean reassures, a mantra in Seth’s ear. Dean’s arms are around him, and Seth lets Dean hold him through it, through the first round of pushing that steals what remaining energy Seth had, through the second round, and third, when it feels like all he’s doing is pushing pointlessly.  
  
”S’not…working,” Seth pants, head thrown back against Dean’s shoulder. The hospital gown he’s in is soaked, sticking to his skin, and he’s covered in sweat, hair plastered to his face, sticking uncomfortably along the nape of his neck. This is exhausting, and frustrating, and Seth just wants this part to be over already, to get to the good part where he and Dean are holding their babies.  
  
”It is,” Dean says, kneading at Seth’s shoulders. “You’re doin’ so good, babe, just a little more. M’so fuckin’ proud of you, Seth, goddamn.”  
  
Seth’s eyes burn, tears spilling out. He’s tired, so tired, and he just wants to take a break, to rest, but he’s so close, they’re so close, and he can do this, he knows he can.  
  
The next time he’s instructed to push, Seth braces himself with his hands on Dean’s forearms, pushing with a renewed spirit. Dean’s there, in his ear, reminding him to breathe, saying, “That’s it, babe, that’s it, almost there.”  
  
In a matter of minutes, a sharp cry pierces the air, and Seth collapses back against Dean, chest heaving as he catches his breath.  
  
”The first baby is a boy,” the doctor says. Seth watches through blurry eyes as he’s handed off to a nurse, bundled in a receiving blanket, and then the doctor is reminding Seth that he has one more to go.  
  
The second baby comes quicker, easier, and it’s their princess, their baby girl, and before Seth knows it, he has a baby in each arm, their tiny faces wrinkled as they cry.  
  
”They’re perfect,” Dean says, voice thick with emotion. All Seth can do is nod in agreement, too overcome with emotion to speak. Their son and daughter, tiny and small and so fucking fragile, and Seth has never felt as much love as he does now, with their children in his arms, Dean behind him.  
  
There’s nowhere else he’d rather be, and no one he’d rather be with.  
  
”Merry Christmas,” the doctor says, after it’s all over.  
  
”Christmas already?” Seth asks, looking for a clock, and sure enough, it’s well after midnight.  
  
”Pretty good anniversary present, don’t you think?” Dean asks, laughing softly.  
  
Christmas, anniversary, it doesn’t get much better than this.


End file.
